


The Commander and The Captain

by WhistlingWolf13



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Angst, Commander Cosmo needs a hug, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Protective Commander Cosmo, Ravaxis needs a hug, Snippets, drabbles?, poisoned, possible more eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhistlingWolf13/pseuds/WhistlingWolf13
Summary: Little snippets of life in space, and the relationship between a lost Commander and the alien Captain who decided - for whatever reason - to let him stay on his ship.Chapter 1: Peter contemplates his new life on the S.S. Alexander, the changes he's gone through and the fact that Ravaxis is actually quite small.Chapter 2: This weird space-man he's picked up seems to have made up his mind that Ravaxis is a good person.Chapter 3: Peter's lost too many friends. He is not going to lose another if he can help it.Chapter 4: Some people reacted to fear with anger. Others – and Ravaxis hated that he was one of them – reacted to anger with fearChapter 5: Peter couldn't leave her there, all alone. But bringing a child aboard the spaceship brings up some disturbing revelations about Ravaxis' childhood.





	1. Small things

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently in the process of moving, and sometimes I just need a break. This is a product of that, just writing whatever ideas pops into my mind. Probably not the most original of ideas, but whatever. Some chapters are short, some are a little longer, loosely connected to each other... And wow, this dull note is probably reeeaally making you want to read this story, huh? 
> 
> Well, for what it is, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Ravaxis was a rather small person, Peter thought, glancing subtly at the other over his coffee cup. The realization came rather suddenly, though it had been months since he first woke up on the spaceship and he should perhaps have noticed sooner.

When he first arrived, the size of the ship’s captain couldn’t have been further from his mind. The last thing he knew, he’d exploded with his aircraft and crew. At least, that was what it had felt like. Then he found himself waking up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar spaceship, with an unfamiliar person staring curiously at him.

Honestly, he’d been more preoccupied with the fact that the stranger was green. With the fact that he had yellow eyes, too large for his face. With the fact that he had sharp teeth in a mouth that split into a grin when he saw that Peter was awake. No, Ravaxis had not seemed small then. He had seemed terrifying. As terrifying as an alien could be to a human who thought such things only existed in fiction.

All things considered, he really shouldn’t have been that surprised. Growing up as a Walter meant being more familiar than most with the strange and unbelievable. He’d grown up with robots that acted like humans, among other things. He had thought he was rather open-minded. So, he wasn’t entirely proud of reacting with a cry before trying to jump off the bed and get away from the stranger.

Emphasis on try. The action instead made him crash into the wall as he seemed to lose all sense of gravity and control of his body. And thus, came his second shock when he realized that where Ravaxis was green, his own body was a mixture of blues and purples, dotted with stars. His first reaction was to look for paint cans, thinking the stranger – for whatever reason – had felt like painting a galaxy on his skin. 

A shooting star crossing around his wrist, disappearing up under the sleeve of the simple shirt he was wearing, quickly changed his mind on that. His skin seemed ever-changing, hues shifting, stars twinkling. The more he looked at it, the more it seemed to change.

His body wasn’t his own anymore, he realized with a start. It looked a way no human body should look, did things no human body should be able to. The fact that his mind was in a state of chaos didn’t help. He panicked, then, breaking down in a fit of so many emotions that he lost all sense of control.

And as he raged and cried, screamed for someone to wake him up, Ravaxis was there. Ducking and dodging the damage and destruction Peter was unintentionally causing around him, but never leaving. He kept talking, calmly guiding Peter through what in hindsight might be described as a rather violent panic attack. Or perhaps mental breakdown was more accurate.

Hours later, Peter finally felt somewhat in control of himself again, curled into himself in a corner of the room, eyes closed so as to avoid looking at himself. He’d heard Ravaxis approach on quiet feet, and had to admire his courage, considering that he had nearly accidentally killed the man several times during the last few hours. 

And when Peter finally dared to open his eyes to look at him, Ravaxis didn’t seem so scary anymore. After all, out of the two of them, Peter was much more terrified of himself and what he had become. Ravaxis had smiled, and told him it would all be okay. That he would be okay. And Peter had believed him.

It took days before Peter was able to talk without panicking at the hollow, distant sound of his own voice. It took weeks before he was able to move around without fearing he’d destroy the spaceship and its inhabitants. 

It took months to get to this point, being able to calmly sit at the same table as Ravaxis, sipping coffee with enough control not to incinerate the cup, sharing easy conversations or just companionable silence.

And only now did he realize how small Ravaxis truly was. It wasn’t just because he, himself had grown larger, his skin turned to much harder material and the muscles and fat he’d had transformed into a solid wall of immeasurable strength and power.

He’d simply been so preoccupied with his own changes that he hadn’t thought to really observe the little things about the man who invited him openly to stay with them on his spaceship for as long as he wanted. The man who’d helped him discover himself all over again, taking on the challenge with a mixture of curiosity and empathy.

Peter looked at him now, as if he saw him for the first time. Like he’d suddenly regained a part of his sight that had been missing or had fully woken up after sleepwalking for months. 

Ravaxis tended to sit on that particular chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, perfectly balanced in a manner that made him seem almost cat-like. Perhaps that’s what made Peter realize how small he was, being able to fit on a rather small seat that way. It was mostly in the mornings, though, like now. As the day went on, he seemed to prefer to move about or stretching himself across any available surface, confident as only a person who felt completely at home could be.

He was usually moving, tapping his cowboy boots to the rhythm of some song or another, often played loudly over the ship’s speaker system – after making sure Peter didn’t mind. And if he wasn’t playing music, or filling the silence with chatter, he was often heard humming, occasionally singing if he forgot anyone was listening. 

He was humming now, his sharp teeth hidden behind a relaxed little smile. His once seemingly too large eyes looking just large enough to express the extent of the emotions and intelligence he hid behind mischievous smirks and snarky remarks. 

Flipping a page of the book he was holding against his knees, he distractedly brushed dark curls out of his eyes, only for them to fall back into place a moment later. As he read something particularly amusing, his nose wrinkled, pulling Peter’s attention to the freckles dusting his nose and cheeks.

Ravaxis was a rather small person, Peter thought. He was also a rather adorable one.

It occurred to him that he should be more alarmed than he was by this discovery. But then the alien – who was actually part human, he’d learned over the past few months – glanced up to meet his eyes, and smiled. One of his more quiet smiles, the kind that wrinkled the corner of his eyes and filled Peter with the urge to smile back.

So he did. Because Ravaxis had said everything would be okay. That he would be okay. And he believed him.


	2. The truth, maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like exploring these characters. I know these drabbles probably aren't the most remarkable of writings, but whatever. I get the ideas out, and I get a break from packing and cleaning (I'll be moving by the end of the month).

“Why did you let me stay?”

Ravaxis jumped, cursing under his breath as he hit his head on the desk. As big and solid as the commander was, he could be damn silent when moving around. Crouched under the metal desk repairing faulty wires was not a good place to be when startled. 

He leaned out to better see the commander, rubbing his head. Walter was hovering in the doorway to the cockpit, as if uncertain whether he should approach or not. It was a little saddening to see him be so cautious. Ravaxis was long since used to his presence aboard, but it seemed his companion needed a lot more time before he felt comfortable there. 

Or he could just be in one of his more self-deprecating moods. Ravaxis tried to read his expression but found it to be carefully blank, further proving this theory. Though it wasn’t like the man showed much expressions either way. Ravaxis wondered if he’d been this way before his accident – or whatever had happened – or if it was defence mechanism. It was hard to tell, seeing as he rarely spoke of himself and who he’d been before. Something of a sore subject, Ravaxis gathered.

“What brought this on?” he asked curiously, deciding this conversation probably required his full attention and crawling out. Getting to his feet, he brushed dust off his jeans, grabbing a tissue to clean his rust-stained hands.

Walter said nothing for a moment, but his feet touched down on the floor of the spaceship, making him twitch in surprise. He still wasn’t entirely in control of his own body, often not noticing that he wasn’t grounded until he tried to walk like he used to do. While it was a little comical to see someone literally trip over air, there was nothing fun about his dejected reaction to it. He’d gotten better at hiding it. Ravaxis wasn’t sure that was much better; he seemed to repress enough emotion as it was.

“I… You had no obligation to help me,” Walter slowly explained. “I could have killed you. All of you.”

Ah, Ravaxis thought, definitely in one of his self-deprecating moods then. He tried for a smile, while considering how to answer it. The truth was that he had no idea. When Walter had crashed into their ship, he’d thought they’d hit some kind of debris, only to find that the debris looked a hell of a lot like a man. His spacesuit was busted, but somehow, he was still alive.

Curiosity perhaps? At least that’s what initially made him bring the man aboard. He had always been told he was too curious for his own good and that it would likely get him killed some day. But he couldn’t very well let him float unconsciously around out there.

The violent reaction to waking up had been unexpected. Frightening, even. But as scared as he was, Walter had clearly been even more so. And no matter how Gidget begged him to leave the room or toss their clearly dangerous passenger back into space, he found that he couldn’t.

If anyone else had asked, he’d have claimed it to be nothing but a way to find out more. To learn how the man had become the way he was, and how he might be able to use that power for his own gain. It wouldn’t have been the truth, but no one who thought they knew him would be able to tell. It would be a perfectly acceptable answer from a guy of his reputation.

The thing was, though, that Walter was the one asking. And faced with that solemn look of his, Ravaxis was at a loss. 

“I don’t know,” he said eventually, noticing that Walter had started hovering again, anxiously awaiting a reply.

“You… don’t know?” Walter frowned ever so slightly, head tilting in confusion.

Ravaxis shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t know. Maybe I was just curious. You ain’t like anything I’ve seen before, you know.”

Walter grew still, staring at him for a moment before his gaze faltered. His feet had touched the floor again and he seemed hunched ever so slightly in on himself. “I see,” he said, and while his tone was neutral as ever, his body language was a different matter entirely. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“You know what, though,” Ravaxis found himself saying, “I don’t think I’m that curious about your powers anymore.”

That was true, at least. If the past few months of helping Walter learn how his body now worked had taught him anything, it was that he had no desire for that kind of power. It was too destructive. Too unstable. Too… much. There was a part of him that was utterly grateful that Walter was the one who’d been granted this power and not him. He wouldn’t know what to do with it.

Walter, at least, seemed to be a genuinely nice and peaceful person. If anyone could learn to properly control it, or even harness it for good, it would be him.  


It dawned on him that Walter was giving him a look that was a mixture of fear and understanding. “Should I leave then?” he asked, voice small. Ravaxis blinked, mind frantically going back to find out what he’d said wrong. Once he realized just how he’d phrased it, he nearly cursed his own stupidity. 

“No, Commander, I don’t want you to…” he cut himself off, taking a breath and searching for a way to phrase his thoughts. And here he thought he had a way with words, easily charming most anyone he met without needing to think twice about it. Then again, it was easy to use his words when they weren’t speaking the truth. Something about Walter made him want to be honest. 

The smile faltered ever so slightly from his face at that realization. A frightening realization, in fact, considering the way he’d lived thus far. He wouldn’t consider himself a bad person necessarily. But he certainly wouldn’t consider himself a particularly good one either.

“Look,” he murmured, voice softer now as he struggled to identify the conflicting emotions that had seemingly come out of nowhere. “I didn’t say I want you to leave. I guess… I like having you around?”

“Is that a question?” Walter asked, clearly as confused as Ravaxis suddenly felt. 

“No! I don’t know? Damn it.” He pushed his hand through his curls, wincing when he touched the sore spot that had connected with the desk. He wondered if he could blame the sudden need for honesty on a head injury. “Shit… I don’t typically do stuff like this, bringing people aboard and helping them or whatever. I honestly don’t know what the heck I’m doin’ here. I just know that I don’t want you to… feel like you have to leave.”

Silence followed his rushed statement and Ravaxis just wanted to go back under the desk, hide away and focus on what he knew. Fixing wires and faulty mechanics. Anything but opening up to someone, admitting stuff he usually wouldn’t admit even to himself.

“I mean, you’re allowed to leave if you want to, of course,” he rushed to say, feeling heat touch his ears, “but you don’t have to, is all I’m sayin’.” More silence, and Ravaxis couldn’t for the life of him read what Walter was thinking at the moment. “Do you want to leave?” he found himself asking, realizing he hadn’t even considered that a possibility.

“I wouldn’t know where to go,” Walter said quietly. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know where I would have gone. What I would have done.”

“I’m sure you’d have figured something out,” Ravaxis shrugged, but Walter shook his head, fixing him with another of his intent stares.

“No. I’m not so sure I would have.”

Suddenly Walter was approaching, walking almost normally across the floor until he stood just a few feet from Ravaxis. Close enough that reading his expression was a little easier. Though Ravaxis wasn’t sure he deserved the gratitude he could see on Walter’s face.

“Thank you, Ravaxis,” Walter said. “I’m not sure I have thanked you properly yet.”

“You’ve thanked me before,” Ravaxis shrugged, self-conscious when met with such sincerity.

“Perhaps. I’m not sure you realize how much you’ve done for me, though.” He seemed to consider his words for a moment, and Ravaxis politely remained quiet, letting him say what he needed to, no matter how he didn’t really want to hear it. “You saved me. Grounded me when I felt like I might float away into nothingness. Opened up your home to me, despite seeing how easily I could break it. I… will forever be in your debt.”

The heat was turning into a full-on blush, Ravaxis could tell, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Gee, Commander. You’re makin’ me sound like somethin’ of a good person.”

“You are a good person.”

Ravaxis swallowed heavily. The words were said so matter-of-factly, like it was the truth. Like Walter truly believed this to be the case. Part of him wanted to protest vehemently, that he really wasn’t, and that Walter was just too naïve for his own good.

Another part of him wanted to believe him.

And so, he said nothing, just gave a tiny smile. Walter seemed to accept this, because he smiled back, ever so slightly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” he asked, but somehow, he seemed to know the answer already. Ravaxis wasn’t sure what to feel about that, but felt his smile growing none the less.

“I’m sure,” he said. 

And that was the truth.


	3. Vigil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this took a darker turn than I expected when I started out. This chapter is also longer than the others. Guess the stress of moving is getting to me; I'm finding all sorts of excuses to avoid packing and cleaning...
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy it.

Being outside with people was nerve-wrecking after staying inside the spaceship for so long. It wasn’t just the fact that this was space. That there were so many more planets and kinds of people than he had ever imagined. Although that had been a shock, he could sort of deal with that after seeing that these people – strange as they were – didn’t behave too unlike humans did.

The main problem wasn’t that he didn’t know his surroundings. That he didn’t know what this little planet was called or the name of the kinds of people that lived and visited there. That he could deal with, after getting to know Ravaxis a bit more and hearing him tell stories about the places he’d visited and people he’d met.

No, the main problem was that he no longer knew himself. Even in space, amongst people of various colours, sizes and distinguished looks, he stood out like a sore thumb. There was no race like him, because he hadn’t been born the way he looked right now. And there were no one with the same abilities and powers he had.

So, he drew stares. The moment he stepped through the doors to the bar, the chatter grew still, and heads turned. He was the focus of the entire room.

In the past, this wouldn’t have bothered him. He’d been a commander, after all. A leader. One didn’t get such a position if they couldn’t handle the attention that came with being in charge. He had a dream, and he fought for it, regardless of whether he stuck out or not. He’d been young and ambitious. Too ambitious perhaps, considering how his dream had literally gone up in smoke.

Now, the stares made his throat tighten and he felt sick. He was suddenly reminded of what had happened to make him this way. Was reminded that he was different, and that the so-called “power” he now had, had come at the cost of his crew aboard the Cosmo. His friends.

Somehow, he thought he could see the accusation in the expressions of people there, as if they could tell that he shouldn’t be there. That he shouldn’t be alive, when none of his friends were.

A warm hand touched his back as Ravaxis moved past him. It was a brief touch, but enough to remind Peter to take a breath. While he didn’t technically need to breathe anymore, he found that it helped calm the racing heart in his chest ever so slightly.

Ravaxis let nothing show in his expression. Simply sauntered over to the bar and looked at Peter with a grin. “Well, are ya coming or not?” he said. And Peter did, stepping fully inside to take a seat next to him. Did his walking look natural? He’d been practicing, no matter how silly he felt, because it had turned out the be frustratingly difficult when gravity no longer truly applied to him.

“This here’s Walter, a buddy of mine,” Ravaxis casually introduced him to the barkeeper, a short and odd-looking fellow with a few too many eyes. One of those eyes were studying Ravaxis, while the rest were fixed on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding. “How do you do,” he said, falling back on good manners in a hope that this would ease the tension in the bar somewhat.

“Howdy,” the barkeeper replied. “So, what’ll it be, Rav? The usual?”

“Nah, think I’ll stay clear-headed tonight,” Ravaxis grinned, clearly familiar with the barkeeper, who raised an eyebrow.

“Clear-headed? You? That’s a joke.” He did smile a little, though, and the comment seemed to be one of good humour. He asked no further questions, just pouring a lime-coloured drink that Ravaxis seemed to know, for he took a sip of it without question. “Same for your friend here?”

Ravaxis took one look at Peter and nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry, pal, it’s non-alcoholic.”

Peter nodded slowly, accepting the drink he was handed but not drinking immediately. Ravaxis fell into easy conversation with the barkeeper, and Peter tried not to pay attention to the clear jabs at less than honourable events of the past. He had long since decided he wouldn’t judge the captain for his faults and vices. Not when he’d accepted Peter aboard his ship so easily. It wasn’t like he seemed too morally corrupt. Just dancing on the line between right and wrong.

Absently he took a sip of the drink, a frown touching his forehead as he tried to judge the flavour. He couldn’t place it. Something sweet but a little bitter at the same time. It went down easily enough, and he trusted Ravaxis when he said it didn’t have alcohol. It was probably a good idea on Ravaxis part; he was hardly in control of himself as it was, he was in no hurry to find out what he might do if he got drunk. If he could even get drunk anymore.

After a while, he felt himself start to relax. People didn’t seem to be as interested in him anymore now that he simply sat at the bar, sipping his drink in peace. He replied once or twice when the conversation tried to include him but was otherwise content just being there. Getting familiar with chatter and laughter and other background sounds he hadn’t realized he’d missed. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture himself back in the old day, hanging out with friends on a weekend.

“Who’s the big guy, Rav?” Pulled from his musings, Peter tensed, turning to see a large fellow approaching Ravaxis. A few others trailed behind him, all square shoulders and set jaws. Likely an attempt at intimidation. Something in his tone made Peter tense, and he straightened despite himself, hoping his unease wasn’t too obvious on his face.

Ravaxis didn’t seem particularly bothered, not even giving the guy the benefit of a glance before shrugging. “Why don’t you ask him, Calrin?” he said flippantly, “I’m not his mother, he can speak for himself.”

Calrin seemed none too pleased with the dismissive act but did turn to Peter. As tough as he clearly tried to seem, Peter could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He’d seen his type before. The big guy on the block, feeling threatened by a newcomer who might turn out to be bigger and badder than himself.

While it wasn’t something he was eager to deal with, he couldn’t blame Ravaxis because he was absolutely right. He was perfectly capable of speaking for himself. So, he did, giving a polite nod.

“Commander Walter,” he said quietly. “Nice to meet you, Mr… Calrin, was it?”

While he wasn’t so sure it was nice to meet this guy, the reaction clearly wasn’t expected because Calrin blinked and suddenly looked a little lost. Ravaxis hid a smile by taking a sip of his drink.

“Uh, yeah,” Calrin said, faltering just slightly before narrowing his eyes in an attempt to regain control. He didn’t address Peter further, though, apparently deciding he wasn’t a threat and turning to Ravaxis instead. “Decided you needed a body guard after last time, huh?” he said, voice filled with something dark and dangerous. There was a smirk on his lips, but Ravaxis still seemed calm as ever.

“Body guard? I think ya’ll need to recheck your memories,” he said, finally turning around in his seat to look at the guys. “How’s your tooth by the way, did it regrow yet?”

Calrin’s smirk disappeared from his lips. He leaned a bit further, voice quiet but menacing. “You might have been lucky last time, getting away with all the limbs still attached to your pathetic little-”

“Hey now,” the barkeeper spoke up, all eyes directed at Calrin with a hard look. “None of that in here. This is a respectable establishment.”

For a moment, Peter though the man would completely disregard the barkeeper, for he certainly looked angry enough. Instead, he straightened again with a snarl. “Respectable,” he spat. “I think you should reconsider what kind of disrespectful trash you let in here, then,”

“Right now, you’re the only disrespectful one here, Calrin,” the barkeeper threatened, “now get back to your business or get out. You’re disturbing everyone.”

Peter glanced around, noticing that the air was indeed heavy with a fearful tension as other patrons watched the scene unfold. Calrin seemed to weigh his options, but eventually the desire to finish his own drink seemed to win him over, and he gave a snort before turning. “You haven’t heard the last of us, Rav,” he muttered.

“I didn’t imagine I had,” Ravaxis replied easily, still smiling. Although Peter thought he looked just a hint irritated, he really didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell completely.

One of the guys trailing behind Calrin stopped briefly before going after him back to their table. He lifted Ravaxis’ glass with a snort, swirling the liquid around for a moment. “Laying off the alcohol, are we?” he said disdainfully. “and here you always boast how well you can hold your liquor. One might think you’re full of shit, Starburner,” he said with a nasty grin before setting the glass down again.

Peter frowned, studying the guy as he turned to walk back. Although he’d followed Calrin like a silent shadow until now, he somehow felt even more dangerous in a way. Perhaps it was the intelligent glint of his dark eyes. Or perhaps it was the way Ravaxis’ expression had tensed when the stranger spoke, only relaxing slightly once he’d left.

“Friends of yours?” Peter asked sarcastically, a brow raising as Ravaxis huffed and turned back to his drink. He took a few chugs of it before grimacing and apparently deciding the bitterness of it was too much and setting it back down on the counter.

“Some fellows I fell out with a while back,” he said with a shrug. “not the friendliest sort. But then, neither was I when we last met.” The grin was back, humorous and defiant all at once, and Peter couldn’t help the small smile that forced itself onto his face.

The barkeeper shook his head with a sigh. “You’re making me go grey before my time, Rav. Just promise me you’ll try to stay clear of them, will you? For my peace of mind, if anything.” He looked worried, Peter noticed, showing the kind of affection one might expect from an old friend. Ravaxis’ grin softened ever so slightly.

“Ya know me,” he said, “trouble tends to find me, whether I invite it or not.”

“So we’re pretending you’re not an adrenaline-junkie, are we?” The barkeeper said, heaving a sigh. “You’re not invincible, though. Some day, you’re gonna piss off someone who’ll bite back.”

“You worry too much.” Ravaxis stood from his seat, putting a few coins on the bar. It seemed to be more than enough, though, as made clear by the barkeeper’s reluctance to take it. “Thanks, though.” For a brief moment, he looked sincere, and the barkeeper seemed to notice, nodding with a small smile.

Peter finished his own drink before standing to head out after Ravaxis, the night out clearly finished. And just as well, because although they hadn’t been out long, Peter already longed for the silence and anonymity he’d gotten used to on the S.S. Alexander.

They were quiet as they walked through the dim-lit streets back towards the ship. It was odd walking across a surface so different from earth, yet with buildings and streets that looked so similar. In the evening light the colours almost reminded him of his home back in California, but the plant life was clearly different and spread sparsely across the almost desert-like landscape.

“So, you okay?” Ravaxis asked, and he turned away from the scenery to glance at his companion. He looked more the way Peter had gotten used to seeing him now; less daring and more genuine. “Must have been a bit of a culture shock?”

“I’m all right,” Peter nodded after considering it for a while. “It’s… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, I bet. You didn’t look it, though. Seemed right at home if you ask me.”

“I doubt that,” Peter said a little dejectedly, remembering the stares he’d gotten and how hard his heart had been beating heading in there.

“No, I’m serious,” Ravaxis said with a small smile, “you don’t look as out of place as ya feel. You’ve got this confidence movin’ about. A leader’s confidence. It never left, you’re just out of balance is all.”

Peter considered this, for a moment. Considered protesting. He didn’t feel very confident at the moment. He decided to let it go, and Ravaxis seemed content without an answer. They were reaching the spaceship now, and a ladder was already extending down from the hatch. Probably Gidget or Booplax picking up on their arrival.

Ravaxis grabbed the ladder first and started climbing before swaying ever so slightly, grip tightening. “Whoa,” he murmured, “speaking of balance…”

“You okay?” Peter frowned, watching as the Captain blinked dazedly for a moment, as if dizzy. “I thought you said the drink was non-alcoholic?” he added, thinking the instability resembled that of someone who’d had something strong.

“It was,” Ravaxis nodded, shaking his head before grinning. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought,” he said, and kept climbing. He reached the top and entered easily enough, so he might be right. Peter suddenly realized he wasn’t even using the ladder, floating up after the other, as if to catch him if he should fall. It was odd how flying felt more like second-nature than walking did.

“Honey, I’m home,” Ravaxis called out as they left the airlock – although this planet had a kind atmosphere, so it wasn’t needed at the moment. Gidget poked his head out from one of the rooms and gave an affirmative answer before disappearing again. He was too used to his Captain’s antics to bother reacting much to it. Peter heard Booplax reply from somewhere on the ship as well.

While he had seen Ravaxis’ companions occasionally, he had the distinct feeling that the two of them were avoiding him. He’d talked briefly to Gidget, telling the robot of his own family of automatons on earth, but it seemed the interest wasn’t reciprocated. While a little disheartening, Peter couldn’t blame them, after the first impression he must have made. They knew he was dangerous. And unlike Ravaxis, who just didn’t seem to care about this, they were wary and kept their distance.

“Look, I’m sorry for cuttin’ the night short,” Peter stopped, realizing Ravaxis had as well. The other looked strangely serious. “I wanted tonight to be a good time, seein’ as it was your first time out in so long.”

“I had a good time,” Peter protested, and it was at least partially truthful. It hadn’t been too bad, up until the confrontation.

“Yeah?” Ravaxis studied him for a moment before apparently deciding he was being honest. “Well, that’s good. Let’s hope next time we can get through a night without getting interrupted, then?”

Next time. Peter nodded, feeling a lot happier about that than he would have thought. “That would be nice,” he said.

Ravaxis grinned. “I mean, I can’t make any promises, like I said, trouble tend to follow m-” the word trailed off in a strange hiss as a hand flew up to his head. Momentarily he stumbled again, and Peter had the brief thought that the man would pass out. He barely had time to raise his arms to catch him when the spell seemed to pass, leaving Ravaxis confused and Peter with his arms hovering uncertainly. “Geez, that was weird,” Ravaxis said, trying for a smile that looked a little shaky. “Maybe the barkeeper got those drinks mixed up after all, I mean he ain’t getting’ any younger and he’s used to serving me alcohol.”

Peter wanted to protest, letting his arms fall back to his side once he was certain the other was okay. Even if the drink had been alcoholic – and Peter very much doubted that, for the barkeeper seemed perfectly capable of keeping the two separate – Ravaxis hadn’t even finished all of it. He held his tongue, deciding the captain likely knew his own body well enough to notice if something was truly wrong. Maybe he was coming down with something?

“Well, I think I’m gonna turn in,” Ravaxis said and looked normal enough, though the early retreat was a little unusual for him. “Good night, Commander.”

“Good night, Ravaxis,” Peter replied. He watched as the man left, navigating the hallways with ease to get back to his own room. Once he’d disappeared out of sight, Peter headed to the room he’d been given aboard, preferring that over wandering the ship aimlessly.

He rarely slept these days, finding that it was enough to just lie down for a bit, though if he lay down too long, he just started thinking too much. If he was to stay here much longer, he should probably try to find a hobby of some sort. For now, he was content just lying back and pretending he could feel the soft mattress underneath him.

Time passed in that weird, distorted way it tended to do when he lay like this. Despite not being asleep time seemed to pass as though he was, unnoticed and unimportant. The ship was still and dark as night fell over the planet they were visiting.

Something shifted, somewhere. He couldn’t describe exactly what it was, but it made him sit up. It hadn’t been a loud sound, as that would have alarmed him more. Still, something felt off. Drifting off the bed and out into the dim-lit hallway, he let his gaze move about for any signs of disturbance. Perhaps the guys from before had managed to infiltrate the ship?

Just in case, he made sure to be soundless as he floated down the hallway, foregoing any attempt at walking this time.

He halted in front of Ravaxis’ door, as if instinctually. For a moment he just stood there, listening. There was an odd sound coming from inside, and it made him instantly on edge. Before he had time to think twice, he’d raised a hand to knock.

“Ravaxis? Is everything okay?”

No reply, so he knocked again. The longer he stood there, the more the sounds he was hearing sounded like ones of distress. He decided to open the door, as he’d rather apologize for walking in uninvited than ignore the sinking feeling in his gut that something was terribly wrong.

He’d never been inside Ravaxis’ bedroom before. It was surprisingly tidy and uncluttered, only a few personal trinkets on the dresser, along with his hat. It was also empty, though the door to the adjoined bathroom was ajar. “Ravaxis?” he called out again, hearing motion in the bathroom.

“In here,” came a frighteningly weak reply, and Peter wasted no time getting over and opening the door fully. Instantly he was kneeling on the floor next to the captain, who lay curled up next to the toilet. His usually vibrant skin looked ashen, eyes glassy and pained.

“What happened?” Peter asked, first-aid training kicking in as he checked for injuries and finding none. He grabbed a wrist and felt the thrum of a pulse that was much too fast. His skin was clammy, faint tremors crossing his entire body.

“I uh…” Ravaxis cut off as a wave of pain seemed to grab hold of him, making him curl further in on himself. “I don’t think that was alcohol in that drink,” he said, no trace of a smile now. The words were slurred, as if he was having trouble speaking, though that might be because of the full-body shivers locking his jaw.

Peter thought back to the bar. To Calrin. To the guy who stayed after Calrin left, lifting Ravaxis’ glass, as if looking at it- The realization hit him hard and anger made his skin shift to a darker hue.

“He poisoned your drink?” he breathed.

“Mm.” Ravaxis’ eyes fluttered shut as the sound of confirmation turned into more of a moan. “God, it hurts.” he said, swallowing heavily as if trying to swallow back nausea.

“Where does it hurt?” Peter asked.

“Huh…?”

“Ravaxis, where does it hurt the most,” Peter spoke slowly, seeing how the other seemed to have trouble staying awake enough to follow conversation. Yellow eyes opened in an attempt to locate him, but he seemed to see straight through Peter at this point. This was bad.

“Stomach, and m-my head… ‘m cold.”

“Right, we’ll get you a blanket in a moment,” Peter comforted absent-mindedly, mind going through the symptoms Ravaxis mentioned and what he could see, trying to think of what poison might cause this. While not a doctor by any means, he knew of quite a few, having learnt about them through his training. This was space, though, which meant there were likely a lot more options that Peter were entirely unfamiliar with. “Did you manage to throw up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ravaxis groaned, a bitter laugh trailing after, “sure did”.

“That’s good. Hopefully you got most of it out of your system. Do you need to throw up again?”

Ravaxis shook his head with a pitiful expression. Throwing up when in this much pain likely hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Peter reminded himself to grab a bucket either way, once he’d gotten the captain back to bed.

“Can you move? We should get you back to the bed for now.”

“Whoa, tryin’ to get me to bed, when we ain’t even had… a first date yet?”

Peter blinked, before realizing that Ravaxis was cracking a joke. The fact that he could do that when curled up on the bathroom floor was admittedly comforting.

“Can you walk?” he repeated, deciding to ignore the comment.

Ravaxis did try. He’d almost managed to get to a seated position when his breath hitched. Then he was clutching the toilet again, body shaking as he heaved violently. Not much more came up, leading Peter to believe he’d thrown up as much of the substance as he would be able to. Putting a hand on the captain’s back, he kept it there as a steady presence while he listened to the raspy gasps for breath in between heaving.

“You done?” he murmured softly once Ravaxis seemed to have calmed a little. When he received a nod, he stood and grabbed a towel, wetting it before carefully cleaning the other. Ravaxis seemed half asleep across the porcelain, too lost to notice much of anything it seemed. Once he was done, Peter threw the towel aside. “I’m going to lift you now,” he warned. “It might hurt, but it will feel much better once you’re in bed.”

“Mm…” was the only drowsy reply he would get, it seemed. So, he carefully put his arms under Ravaxis’ knees and behind his back, lifting him easily into his arms. Immediately, Ravaxis tensed, but after a few moments settled down again, head lolling against Peter’s chest. “Ye’r… cold…” he whispered. “’s nice.”

Peter frowned, knowing that the main reason he felt so cold was because Ravaxis was burning up with a fever. He was glad he could provide some comfort, though, carrying him out into the bedroom and putting him down on the bed as carefully as he could. Immediately, Ravaxis turned on his side and curled up again, clearly uncomfortable being stretched out.

Finding a washcloth, Peter drenched this in cold water before wringing out any excess. Getting back to the bedroom, he put it down on Ravaxis’ forehead, glad to hear a small sigh of relief pass his lips.

“I’m going to stay with you,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Although he was aware that he might be way past the line they had sort of established between the two of them, there really was no option in this situation. He still had no idea what kind of substance Ravaxis had been given or for what purpose. Had no idea if he was over the worst of it, or if the worst was yet to come. No matter the outcome, he would not be alone, Peter knew that much.

“Okay,” came Ravaxis’ quiet reply, and he sounded utterly unbothered by Peter’s decision. His eyes were open now, but squinting slightly, pain obvious in the strained expression. Finding the light switch, Peter dimmed the lights, thankful that Ravaxis had showed him how to operate that function already. Satisfied that the lights were as low as they could be, he found an arm chair in a corner of the room and pulled it close to the bed.

They were silent for a while, with Peter both blessing and cursing his keen hearing. He felt every strained breath as if it was his own, heard the tiny moans as waves of pain made Ravaxis tense. While it was handy, an easy way to monitor his condition, it hurt to see him like this, knowing there wasn’t a whole lot more he could do. It wasn’t like he knew where one might find a doctor out here. If the planet even had one.

The helplessness of it all made him restless. He wasn’t aware that this was affecting his skin until he noticed Ravaxis’ gaze focus on his arms, which were bare due to the tank top he was wearing. He glanced down, seeing stars shoot across his skin at a more rapid rate than usual, colours shifting and moving about.

It still made him uneasy to look at himself. Ravaxis, though, seemed transfixed. “You’re pretty,” he whispered where he lay. Peter wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so remained silent. Ravaxis didn’t seem to mind, though, half-asleep as he was. “It’s like a… reflection of space,” he continued drowsily. “I like space.”

“Try to get some rest,” Peter suggested.

“Mm.” Ravaxis’ eyes drifted shut as he seemed to take that suggestion to heart.

As the night wore on, however, it became clear that rest was not something that was going to happen. Between the pain and the fever – which had risen to an alarming temperature – Ravaxis was left a twitching, gasping, whimpering mess. It was frightening to see the usually unshakable man fall apart like this.

He didn’t cry, though, to Peter’s surprise. And the look in his eyes during his more coherent moments could almost be described as defiant.

Gidget discovered what was going on at some point during the night, shocked by the state of his captain. The robot didn’t seem to know much more about any potential doctors in the area, but with the database system on the ship, he managed to search for the symptoms and find likely substances that could do this. It didn’t really make things easier, though. There were a lot of options based on the vague symptoms, and at least a few of them listed death as a possible, if not likely, outcome.

As he met the eyes of the robot, Peter could see the same fear in his expression that he himself was starting to feel. For once, at least, they were on the same page; they both worried for his life. This was perhaps the first time Peter felt that Gidget accepted his presence on the ship. It was a shame the situation had to change so dramatically for that to happen.

Night became dawn, and Ravaxis only got worse. Even the slight light in the room was making him unable to open his eyes without his head splitting open – as he himself so eloquently put it, sounding so desperate that Peter knew he thought this to be a real possibility.

They covered him in cold, damp towels to get his temperature down. Tried to get him to drink something between the bouts of pain. Soothed him when the fever would trap him in horrible nightmares that left him crying out hoarsely.

Peter wanted to leave the ship and find the bastard that did this. Find him, make him tell him exactly what he’d put in that drink, and then hopefully make him drink it himself. He might have said it out loud, because Gidget was looking at him with something akin to understanding.

“It wouldn’t help him,” the robot said quietly.

“I know,” Peter bit out, and took a breath to quell the unfamiliar anger. He was not a violent man, never had been. Revenge would not make him feel better, and it certainly wouldn’t help Ravaxis. Even if there was a possibility of discovering what poison it was, there was no guarantee that there would be an antidote. “I just… Gidget, I don’t want to see him die.”

The anger washed out of him as quickly as it had come, and he just felt drained. Gidget said nothing, but Peter knew he shared the sentiment. Even if the robot wasn’t at quite the same level of emotional intelligence as the robots he’d grown up with, it was clear that he cared about the captain, in his own way.

“I’ve lost enough friends,” Peter whispered, glancing down at where he was holding Ravaxis’ hand between his own. “I don’t want to lose another.”

The fingers twitched between his hands and for a moment he thought Ravaxis might just be awake. But the twitching suddenly became a clutching, desperate grip as the captain drew in a pained gasp of air. When he exhaled it again, it was like he exhaled every ounce of energy and tension, for he went limp.

Peter waited, heartbeat racing in fear, for another intake of breath. It never came.

“Commander-” Gidget spoke up, alarmed.

“He stopped breathing,” Peter said, putting a hand on the man’s chest. No heartbeat. “No… No, you don’t get to do this.”

He jumped into action, then, falling back on the medical training he had. Trying to get his heart beating again with compressions. Breathing air into his lungs. Nothing quite seemed to work, and Ravaxis remained unmoving. Unbreathing.

Peter’s mind was blank, as he worked on instinct alone. Only one thought made it through his state of shock, and he paused briefly. While the technological advances weren’t quite there yet when he left earth, there had been talk of electricity. A shock to the heart, to make it beat again.

He looked at his hands. Closed his eyes and concentrated. Pushed away all thoughts of what was possible and not that might hinder him, in favour of a desperate hope. His finger tips tingled. Opening his eyes again, he heard himself calmly ask Gidget to move a bit away. The robot was staring at him, but apparently didn’t dare to protest, pulling away from the bed.

Ripping Ravaxis’ shirt open with one hand, uncaring of the ruined buttons, he moved the other hand to rest on the man’s chest. It felt like he’d taken a step out of his own body, watching himself through someone else’s eyes. He was too calm to be directly involved. Too calm to be holding the small pilot’s life in his hands.

The shock, delivered carefully, made Ravaxis twitch where he lay. It was strange, up until this point, Peter didn’t even know he could do this. He just had a feeling. An instinctive sensation that now guided his hand to deliver another shock, a little stronger than the first. Ravaxis spasmed, then fell back on the bed.

There was movement beneath Peter’s fingertips. A slight shiver, and then Ravaxis gasped. Peter stared at him, then at Gidget who looked as stunned as he felt. Part of him expected Ravaxis to stop breathing again, but he didn’t. His body stubbornly drew in oxygen, heart beating stronger than before beneath his skin.

For a moment, Peter just stood there. Then, dizzy, as if it was he who’d stopped breathing, he fell to his knees next to the bed. He took Ravaxis’ hand between his own again, eyes shut tightly to ward of the overwhelming surge of adrenaline and emotion. “Thank you…” he whispered to nothing in particular.

“No,” he heard Gidget say softly, “thank _you_ , Commander.”

The robot was next to him now, putting a hand on his shoulder a little hesitantly. Peter just shook his head, unable to get any more words out. Gidget didn’t expect him to, though, remaining a calming presence at his side as the two of them once again settled to watch and wait.

Dawn became morning. The pain Ravaxis had been in no longer seemed quite as devastating, and for the most part he seemed to rest somewhat fitfully. Morning became mid-day. And finally, Ravaxis’ fever broke, over the course of the next few hours easing its grip on him.

It was late afternoon by the time he stirred again. And this time, he really did wake up. It took Peter a few moments to realize that where he’d been staring numbly at Ravaxis, Ravaxis was blinking back at him. While he looked exhausted, his eyes were the clearest they’d been since the previous evening.

Peter sat up straight, though he still kept a tight hold on Ravaxis’ hand. The captain glanced down at the intertwined hands and one eyebrow raised tiredly.

“Hand-holdin’, huh?” he rasped, and he sounded awful. “I’m guessin’ things went kinda south then.”

Peter drew in a shaky breath. “You could say that,” he said, voice steadier than he would have expected.

Gidget stirred where he was seated next to Peter, having been recharging a bit from a long night of tension. When he noticed Ravaxis was awake, the robot stood abruptly. “Captain,” he said, apparently too overwhelmed to say much else, “Oh, Captain.”

“Hey,” Ravaxis smiled weakly, “ya never call me Captain, don’t start now. It’s weird.” He shifted, wincing slightly.

“How do you feel?” Peter asked quietly.

“Tired,” Ravaxis replied. “Really fuckin’ tired. But the pain’s almost gone.”

“That’s good.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Ravaxis said with a weak chuckle. The smile on his lips slowly slipped away, though. “So… how bad did it get? Honestly, everything’s kind of a blur.”

Peter hesitated, and Ravaxis picked up on it, sharp as ever. “That bad, huh.”

“You almost died,” Peter whispered. He’d had way too much time to think about this over the past few hours but saying it out loud made it so much more real. His vision blurred and he didn’t realize it was because he was crying until he saw the drops fall onto their hands. “Your heart stopped, Ravaxis. You were in so much pain, but I didn’t know what kind of poison you were given, so I didn’t dare give you any pain medication because I feared it would just make things worse. I had no clue where the nearest doctor is, or where to find help, and then your… your heart just stopped.”

“Whoa, hey…” Ravaxis’ voice was soft, and Peter felt his hand curl around his own. “I’m okay. I’m not dead.”

Peter nodded, the lump in his throat constricting him from saying anything else. He lifted a hand to hastily wipe the wetness off his face, clearing his throat to regain some sense of control. He wasn’t typically one to cry, so he couldn’t help the embarrassment that rose like heat to his cheeks. But he supposed the adrenaline and fear had to get an outlet somehow. It was probably better than ending up flying off into space and destroying something because he had too much pent-up emotion.

“Well,” Ravaxis said after a moment, “at least I didn’t drink the whole glass.”

Peter thought that as far as optimism went, it was a pretty poor attempt. “I hope I never cross paths with that man,” he muttered darkly, knowing that he might not be able to control himself if he did.

Ravaxis hummed. “If I know Calrin, he’ll already have taken care of him,” he said. “Bastard though he is, he hates underhanded methods more than most. He might want to beat me to a pulp – well, he definitely wants to beat me to a pulp after last time – but at least he’ll be honourable about it.”

“Your definition of ‘honourable’ is disturbing,” Peter sighed. He hoped he was right, though, and that the culprit really had been taken care of. For now, he supposed he should just be relieved that it hadn’t gone worse. Ravaxis was getting better. He was talking. He was breathing. And he was still very much the Ravaxis Starburner Peter had come to know and care about.

“Hey, you said my heart stopped…”

“I did.”

“He saved you,” Gidget added when he noticed that Peter was reluctant to share the details. “Restarted the heart with electricity from his hand.”

Ravaxis’ eyebrows rose up under his curls – which seemed even more curlier now with the sweat from his fever breaking. “From your hand?” he asked, surprised. “I didn’t know you could do that?”

“Neither did I,” Peter said. “But there wasn’t time to think. I just… did it.”

“Wow. That’s kinda awesome.”

Peter shrugged. It certainly hadn’t felt awesome while he was doing it, just necessary. It had saved his friend’s life, though, so there was that.

“You saved my life,” Ravaxis continued, quietly, like he was a little blown away by this fact. Peter wasn’t sure he liked how surprised the man looked at the thought that he would want to save his life.

“Well, of course I’d want to save your life, you’re my friend,” he said. Ravaxis stared at him, and once again looked much too surprised for Peter’s liking. “Or was I the only one thinking that?” he asked, more uncertainly, wondering if he’d just imagined the friendliness between the two of them. Perhaps he’d now made things too awkward. He was rather good at that, he thought, being an awkward person in general.

Ravaxis shook his head silently for a moment. “No, that’s not-” he cut off, and Peter saw him swallow heavily. “Thank you, Peter,” he said, eyes wide and contemplative and utterly sincere.

Peter. Not Commander. Not Walter. Not some sort of nickname based on his appearance. Peter. It meant more than Peter had realized, to hear the other finally use his name. And although he wasn’t sure if the other was thanking him for saving his life or for considering him a friend, he promised himself he’d be better about making that last part clear. So clear that Ravaxis would no longer look surprised to hear someone call him a friend.

“You’re welcome, Ravaxis.”

There was a sort of awkward silence between them now, the only one oblivious to this being Gidget, who just looked happy. “I’m so happy you’re alive, Rav,” he said. “I admit I was confused when the Commander kissed you, but I see now that it must have been vital to your recovery.”

Peter choked on a breath he didn’t need. Ravaxis’ face split into a tired but amused grin. “Aw, Commander, I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said.

“You weren’t breathing, it’s called rescue breaths, y-you know that!” Peter protested, ears burning by now.

“I know, I know,” Ravaxis giggled, “Lucky me, gettin’ a kiss of life.”

“It wasn’t a kiss!”

Gidget looked confused, looking from one of them to the other. “Did I say something strange?” he asked, which just made Ravaxis giggle harder.

Peter sighed heavily, accepting that he would be the laughing stock for now. He couldn’t be too mad about it, though. Not when Ravaxis’ laughter reminded him that he was alive and well.

The giggles inevitably turned to breathless coughs and Ravaxis sank bonelessly back against the pillow. He was still smiling, though it had softened considerably. “Really, though. Thanks.”

Peter nodded awkwardly. From the looks of it, Ravaxis was well on his way to passing out again, though this time from pure exhaustion. “You should drink something, then rest,” Peter said, grabbing the glass of water from the nightstand and holding the straw up to Ravaxis’ mouth.

“Yes, mom,” Ravaxis said jokingly, but he did as he was told and sighed as the cool liquid no doubt soothed his throat. As sleep threatened to overcome him, he glanced down at their hands again, tightening the hold ever so slightly. “It’s nice to have a friend,” he murmured, by now possibly too exhausted to realize how heart breaking that simple statement was.

Peter’s grip on his hand tightened as well. “It is,” he agreed quietly, though the other was already fast asleep. He smiled sadly, resigning himself to another night of bedside vigil, eternally grateful that he still had a friend to watch over. “It really is.”


	4. Breaking point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might be a little additcted to writing these two. And I think maybe, accidentally, this turned into more of a multi-chaptered story than individual stories the way I initially started it. Oh well. It's fun to write when I don't have much motivation to do anything.
> 
> (I also might be a little addicted to making this whole thing more angsty than it needs to be...)

Ravaxis did not like anger. The violence that came with it, or the shouting. The icy glares people would give or the toxic words they would spew. It made him vastly uncomfortable. Not that anyone would know this, with how often he seemed to rile people up with nonchalance or quips. If anything, one might assume he thrived on making people angry. Not that the humour and attitude was just a cover-up for how much he wanted to back out of the situation.

In his experience, backing out meant being weak. Being a coward. Neither of which were reputations he could afford to have. Ravaxis already had a few disadvantages in the harsh environments of space, being half human – often thought to be one of the weakest species – and a bit on the small side. It didn’t mean anything, he was quite aware of his own limitations, but also his own strengths.

Making it seem like confrontation was one of his strengths was easy. Making daring eye-contact with brutes twice his size was easy. Tricking them into thinking he was much stronger than he really was, was easy. He could hold his own in a fight, sure. Could shoot the button off someone’s shirt if needed. But he knew that he was far from the strongest or the toughest. And some people might suspect that his bark was worse than his bite, but they didn’t _know_. And that was the whole point.

Sometimes, their hesitation, that split second of trying to figure him out, was all he needed. It was the difference between being beaten to a pulp or getting away unharmed. He was smart, and agile. Could think as fast as he could move. But without that slight advantage, it would mean nothing.

Getting out of difficult situations was an art he’d mastered long ago, and he revelled in the moment he finally got away and could just breathe. Without people shouting and cursing his name. The moment anger was just a distant memory.

This time should have been the same. Because, as always, he did get away and onto the safety of his ship, adrenaline pumping through his veins and relieved laughter bubbling in his throat. It would have been the same, except it wasn’t. Instead of being met by Gidget’s exasperated welcome, he came face to face with a very tall and clearly very angry commander.

“What… what was that?” Peter asked, staring at him.

Ravaxis tried to hide the full-body flinch at his friend’s tone. It was so very quiet, but not in a good way. It did nothing to cover up the anger practically radiated off Peter in waves. And Ravaxis found himself unable to answer, throat closing up and eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

This wasn’t what he expected, coming back. He’d put the anger behind him with the goons he’d barely escaped, had thought he was safe away from its grasp. He wasn’t prepared enough to face it head on again, and that realization just made the adrenaline pump harder. Made his heart speed up, breathing life into his fight- or flight-instincts yet again.

“What were you thinking?” Peter continued, voice almost a hiss, before rising in volume as he clearly grew more agitated at the lack of reply. “Why did you goad them like that? You could have been killed! Is that what you wanted? Because it sure as hell seemed that way!”

It wasn’t like Peter to swear. Profanities seemed to make him uncomfortable, and he’d often quietly chide Ravaxis for doing it so regularly. Peter didn’t seem much like himself at the moment at all, skin dark, as if the galaxies stretching across him were all storming. Somehow, he seemed even taller than usual.

Ravaxis fought the urge to take a step back, putting his hands up in attempt to calm the other. “Jeez, cool it, will ya? I’m fine,” he said, and cursed the fact that his own voice came out so soft, so hesitant. But it was hard to find that same bravado he’d had just moments ago, when this confrontation took him by surprise.

“You may be fine, but that’s nothing but pure, dumb luck,” Peter said, “I saw the video feed, Ravaxis, Gidget hacked the cameras there to keep an eye out.” Ravaxis winced, opening his mouth to defend himself. To explain that it probably wasn’t as bad as it might have looked – though he knew this had been a close shave and the cameras wouldn’t have been able to hide that.

He never got the chance, because Peter continued, voice rising and almost trembling with the emotions he was feeling. “It was idiotic and reckless! You’re not invincible, Ravaxis, so why – WHY do you insist on acting like you are?”

Peter’s arms flew up in a general motion of exasperation, and Ravaxis couldn’t stop it this time. He took a step back, breath hitching as his own hands rose to defend himself from a threat that his reflexes detected – before his brain could convince him that it wasn’t a threat at all.

For a moment, everything was deadly silent. Ravaxis opened his eyes, not even fully aware he’d closed them. Peter was still staring at him, but it now seemed to be for a completely different reason, anger deflating as quickly as it had appeared.

“Ravaxis, you-”

“I’m fine,” Ravaxis cut him off, smiling shakily. “And I know, I’m reckless, sorry for uh, worrying you, just, I’m fine.”

He was backing away. Showing weakness. Had already shown way too much, evident by the concern on Peter’s face as he slowly raised a hand again, as if to stop him. Ravaxis hated the way his heart beat rapidly against his ribcage, the way his breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. This was Peter, for fuck’s sake, one of the kindest and gentlest men he’d ever come across. He’d just been angry, likely due to fear for Ravaxis’ well-being. Some people reacted like that, Ravaxis knew that.

Some people reacted to fear with anger. Others – and Ravaxis hated that he was one of them – reacted to anger with fear.

Turning on his heel, he did what he always tried not to do. He ran away, though at a pace hopefully slow enough to not make it so obvious. He heard Peter call his name, that single word filled with regret and concern and guilt and confusion, and it was too much. So, he pretended not to hear it, stumbling into his room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

His heart was still racing, and it was hard to breathe. Trembling fingers pulled at the collar of his sweater. He’d worn it to ward off the chill of the atmosphere outside the ship, but it now felt too warm. Too tight. Suffocating him. But he couldn’t quite get his arms to cooperate enough to take it off, instead stumbling back against the wall and sliding down to the floor like a heap of jelly.

Why was it so noisy? He was alone in his own room, the door shut against everything and everyone. And yet, his mind was screaming, memories of slurs and curses washing over him. Peter’s raised voice mingled with countless others. Some he recalled clear as day, others he’d thought he’d long forgotten. Putting his hands against his ears did nothing to quiet them.

Anger. So much anger. Anger at the world, anger at others, anger at him.

“Ravaxis… Ravaxis, can you hear me?”

The longer he sat there, eyes squeezed shut, the clearer their faces became. He could see them shouting, see the ugliness in their expressions. The bitterness. The madness. The murderous intent.

“Breathe, Ravaxis, breathe with me, it’s-”

“I can’t, I- I can’t…”

“You can, just take a breath now, in… and out…”

He did try. But the air seemed to get stuck somewhere between his lungs and his mouth. And it was hard to hear what the voice was saying, because of all the others rising to overwhelm it, to drown it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t be angry, I- I… please… don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry,” the voice said, at least Ravaxis thought it did, it was hard to tell. “Just breathe, now, you’re all right. You’re safe.”

“No…”

How could he be safe, when everyone was screaming at him? He wasn’t safe. He could never be completely safe, they’d made sure he knew that. Pointed out everything he lacked, everything that would get him killed.

He was half human – weak.

He was small – weak.

He was sensitive – weak.

He was alone – weak.

“You’re not alone-”

He had no one. No one to protect his back. No one to make sure he came home safe. No one to care for him, to protect him. No one to want him.

“You have me.”

A pair of hands touched his shoulders, and Ravaxis reflexively flinched away with a whimper. Such an undignified sound, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to care at the moment. The touch disappeared, but not the voice.

“It’s okay, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,” it said. Calm, soft, gentle. A stark contrast to the countless voices warring against each other, yet somehow rising to be heard over them nonetheless. “Breathe, Ravaxis.”

“I can’t-”

“You can. You’re all right, just take a breath with me.”

And above the screaming, he heard an exaggerated breath. His body, still trembling, tried to match it. It seemed to be doing it automatically, which was good, because Ravaxis wasn’t sure he remembered how to do it. Couldn’t quite remember anything apart from the anger. The hatred.

“That’s it, you’re doing great, Ravaxis,” the voice said, and he could only take its word for it. Was he breathing? The voice seemed to think he was. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

He tried to focus on that voice, letting the softness wash over him. Wash away the other voices, until their faces began fading away again, leaving him with only one. Kneeling in front of him on the floor of his bedroom, watching him with gentle concern.

“Peter,” he murmured, watching how the name made the tension around the man’s eyes flow away. Replaced by a smile.

“Ravaxis,” Peter replied. “Are you with me?”

Ravaxis drew a deep breath, turning to look around before nodding. “Uh, yeah. I’m with ya.” He hesitated slightly. “What happened?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Peter said after a brief pause, “though it looked to me as if you were having a panic attack or something of the sort.

Ravaxis swore under his breath, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. “Well, that’s fucking embarrassing,” he said.

“Far from it,” Peter objected seriously, “there’s no shame in what you experienced. I just worry that I might have been the one to trigger it.”

Ravaxis wanted to protest both those statements. Panicking in front of anyone certainly felt like something he ought to be ashamed of. And he wished he could say that Peter had nothing to do with it. But it would be a lie, and Peter had gotten frighteningly good at seeing through his lies.

“I… Shit, it wasn’t your fault,” he said eventually. “At least, not directly.”

“It was my anger?” Peter said, and though it sounded like a question, it didn’t feel like one.

Ravaxis nodded. Now that it had passed, he just felt drained. His mind was clear now, and although the memories were no longer at the forefront of his mind, they still lingered uncomfortably close to the surface.

“Mhm,” he said after a while, though he wasn’t quite ready to dive into an explanation yet. Thankfully, Peter didn’t seem to expect more, just nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get so upset with you, I just…”

Ravaxis smiled, shaking his head. “I scared ya. I get it, it’s okay.”

“I scared you too, though.”

“You didn’t know.”

That was the whole point, after all. No one was supposed to know how much he disliked anger. How bad he truly was at handling it, especially when it caught him by surprise. For the most part, he was good at hiding it. He wouldn’t have survived long if he’d panic every time someone raised their voice at him.

“I don’t usually… react like this,” he said. “Actually, it could be because it was you, after all.” Peter’s expression fell, and Ravaxis quickly shook his head. He reached out and put a hand on Peter’s forearm, the closest part of him he could reach at the moment.

“You misunderstand me,” he continued softly, “I don’t usually react like this, because I don’t care about the ones that are angry. They can’t hurt me, because I don’t care enough to let them. But you… I… I care about you, and so, it hurt more.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, you still misunderstand me,” Ravaxis let out a small chuckle at the expression on the commander’s face. Like a puppy that had done something wrong. “You care about me too, right? That’s why you got angry in the first place. And honestly, I guess I… needed that. I’m just not used to people caring that much. I don’t know how to handle it.”

Silence followed his little speech, and he could feel heat rising to his cheeks, burning at the tips of his ears as they twitched self-consciously. Peter was staring at him again, and Ravaxis could see him put everything together, making sense of the situation.

“I can’t promise I won’t react similarly in the future,” the commander said eventually. “I don’t like to see you risk your life like that, it scares me. Because, as you said, I care about you.” He paused slightly, clearly as self-conscious about discussing this as Ravaxis was. But despite the discomfort, he pushed through it to say what was on his mind. “I can promise you that I will never harm you intentionally, though, if… if that helps. I’d hate for you to be afraid of me. Even though, being the way I am, I… I’d understand.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Peter,” Ravaxis said honestly, with a small smile. “You basically being a potentially all-powerful space-god doesn’t have anything to do with how I reacted.”

Peter studied him for a moment, then nodded, apparently accepting the answer. Ravaxis counted that as a victory in his secret quest to help the man lose some of the self-hatred he’d struggled with since his transformation.

“I can’t promise I won’t act recklessly either,” Ravaxis added, “but… I’ll keep in mind that I’m not alone anymore.”

Peter nodded again. “Please do,” he said. For a moment he seemed to want to say something else, weight shifting ever so slightly towards Ravaxis before he seemed to catch himself and pulled back again. “Do you… Can I help you with anything?” he asked instead.

Ravaxis tilted his head curiously. “Honestly, I think I’ll just head to bed. That whole… ordeal kinda tired me out.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense.” Peter stood, holding out a hand that Ravaxis grabbed thankfully, letting the other pull him to his feet. He wasn’t quite prepared for how weak his legs were, chuckling when he ended up stumbling into the other.

“Oops, sorry,” he said, relieved when he felt Peter support him. Now that he was no longer drowning under the pressure of unwelcome memories, he wondered how he could have shrugged off those big, comforting hands before. They were so warm. So safe.

“Ravaxis?” Peter’s voice sounded a little far away, and he wondered if perhaps he was starting to fall asleep.

“Hm?” he asked, smiling drowsily.

“… Never mind,” Peter said, before helping him over to the bed. Ravaxis fell back against the mattress with a content sigh, too far gone to think much more about anything. “Good night, Ravaxis.”

“‘night, Peter.”

The weight of Peter’s hands disappeared and was replaced by a blanket. Moments later, Ravaxis heard the door shut quietly behind the other, and was left alone with the vague sensation of loss.

Drawing in a deep breath, just to make sure he could, he let it out in a sigh.

He was all right.


	5. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Life's been kinda hectic, and writing's been hard. I just needed to get into it again, and well, that's kind of what this story is all about. To write whatever comes to mind, and get into the flow of things again.
> 
> This chapter's kinda heavy, guys. Sorry about that. But I hope you like it anyway.

He’d merely wanted to explore a bit on his own. He’d gotten better at that lately. Had grown more comfortable moving about new places without freaking out. Since he started travelling with Ravaxis, he’d seen so much. Things that extended far beyond his childhood imaginations and dreams.

The past half year or so had been one experience after the other. Some good. Some not so good. While he was still tagging along with the small and eccentric crew of the S.S. Alexander, he was also starting to feel at home in his new body. Was starting to enjoy the freedom his abilities granted him. If he so decided, he could likely fly across an entirely different solar system and be back in time for lunch. It was exhilarating. And it was frightening. He wasn’t sure what scared him more. Going so far he wouldn’t be able to return – or going so far, and seeing so much, that he wouldn’t want to.

As much as the accident and his old crew still weighed on his mind, the life he’d made for himself aboard the S.S. Alexander had become familiar. Safe. He and Ravaxis got along well for the most part and he liked to think they had a rather nice routine. Explore the universe together. Get into trouble, then help each other out of it. Sometimes they argued. Sometimes they could sit for hours in silence, just enjoying the company.

Occasionally, though, it was nice to get some time away from each other. Cabin fever was a very real issue when travelling aboard a spaceship, and it could put a strain on even close friendships at times. Peter, at least, was lucky to be able to come and go as he wished, not limited the way humans or most living creatures were.

This was one of the days he’d opted to leave. Ravaxis had woken in a rather foul mood, though he’d assured Peter it had nothing to do with him. He’d seemed a bit subdued for a few days already but adamantly refused to talk about it. Finding there was nothing he could do to help him, Peter had decided to give his companion some space and explore this place on his own.

He’d heard Ravaxis say they were near a planet populated by a species resembling humans and had been curious to check it out ever since. Finding life in space was still fascinating to him, as it had only been the stuff of dreams and campfire stories back home. If humans had a way of knowing just how vast space was, how alive, what would they do? Part of him longed to go back, to relay all he’d learnt. Another part was afraid of what this knowledge might bring. It might very well be too much knowledge, too soon.

He found the planet within a few minutes and hovered above it for a while, just observing. It was a rather large planet, though most of it consisted of turbulent waters with harsh weather conditions. According to Gidget’s research, it had limited the population to small, unfriendly pieces of land, far apart from each other. From the moment Peter landed on one of the islands – for that was really what they were, not big enough to be called anything else – he wanted to leave.

The people there were indeed physically similar to humans, but Peter saw in their eyes that they were different. Crueller, somehow. Not that humans couldn’t be cruel. He’d seen a lot of bad on earth as well. Yet here, the hostility seemed to seep through their veins. A hatred so imbedded in them that Peter started to think they were born with it.

Some islands were more primitive, mainly dirt huts among dry forests and mountains. Others had cities with towering structures and dark streets. Somehow, each island was like a world of its own, having developed in entirely different directions without influence from each other. None of the islands seemed to have a very large populations, and as Peter observed the amount of violence and devastation caused by having too little, it made sense somehow. Basic needs had little to no way of being filled, and the societies seemed run by the saying, every man to himself.

A deep-rooted depression seemed to stick to the very foundations of the streets he now walked. He was met with blank, angry, or suspicious glares. Not because he was different, simply because he was there. As if he threatened their lives simply by being another person, another soul to fight for food or sunlight or a chance to live another day.

Peter swallowed the sorrow as best he could. It was an entire planet. Too far away from other planets, and too far away from a sun to prosper. He had no way of helping them. Readying himself to do what his instincts cried not to, and leave, something made him pause. A sound so achingly familiar and yet so unexpected in the otherwise hauntingly silent city.

Following the sound, he finally found her. A tiny bundle in dirty clothes, left behind among piles of trash. Crying, like only a desperately lonely and scared child could. Peter was transfixed, crouching in front of her, staring. A pair of large, tearful blue eyes stared back.

It wasn’t until she started crying even louder that he realized that the heartbreak and anger he felt on her behalf must have shown in his expression. How did he appear to her, he wondered as he softened his expression and reached out a hand to gently touch her head. She couldn’t be much more than a year old, her midnight black hair short, falling messily about her pale cheeks.

The wailing stopped abruptly. For a split second he thought he’d hurt her somehow. Then he noticed her lean into the touch, her eyes searching his face with a mixture of wonder and trust.

It was the trust that broke him. Carefully, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, cradling the tiny person as if she was made of glass. One of his tears landed on her nose and she twitched, lifting a plump little hand to rub clumsily at it.

“What kind of place is this?” Peter whispered, lifting his gaze to look out of the alleyway they found themselves in. People trudged past, some even looking directly at them before turning away. Like it didn’t matter that an innocent life had been left to fade on its own. Tossed out amongst the trash. “What kind of people _are_ you?”

His questions received no answers, and Peter decided he’d had quite enough of this place. Drawing in a breath, he pushed back the tears and smiled weakly. “I bet whoever threw you out never expected you to fly, huh?” he murmured and felt his resolve strengthen when she leaned her head on his chest with a shuddering sigh.

She didn’t even react much as they soared upwards, blinking drowsily while sucking on one hand, the other curled tightly around the material of his jacket. He’d learned, almost by accident a few months back, that those who travelled with him were somehow guarded from the harshness of space. Like it couldn’t touch them while they were touching him. It didn’t stop his heart from beating anxiously all the way to the spaceship as he kept a close eye on the now sleeping baby.

When he stepped out of the airlock he was greeted by quiet music. The volume was strange in itself, as Ravaxis usually liked to play his music loudly. The genre was perhaps even more unusual, as gentle classical sounds drifted through the hallways from the speaker system. It made Peter pause quizzically, wondering for a second if he’d stepped into the wrong spaceship.

The child made a sound, like a mix between a snort and a snore, but didn’t wake. Holding her just a tiny bit closer, he floated through the hallway in search of Ravaxis. He found Booplax first, the creature lingering in the doorway to the living area with a strangely worried expression.

“Booplax?” Peter asked softly, and Booplax looked up with surprise.

“Booplax…” it replied, voice quieter than its usually energetic and somewhat loud tone. Even after all these months, Peter had yet to know whether the alien had some sort of language hidden behind that one word or if it just relied on facial expression and body language to make itself understood.

As much as the creature had grown on him since it stopped avoiding him – the poor thing had been quite frightened of him for a while – he had yet to understand much of what it was saying. Trying to hold a conversation was like playing a particularly frustrating game of charades. Thankfully Ravaxis understood most of it and would usually translate or reply before Peter had to give it much thought.

Keeping this in mind, he cut straight to the point. “Where’s Ravaxis?” he asked. The alien, however, seemed transfixed with the girl now, having noticed her for the first time. One of its four hands reached out but paused before actually touching her, looking up at Peter with wonder.

“I found her,” Peter murmured. “Down there. Alone.”

“Booplax!” the soft cry was one of shock, perhaps, or sorrow. Then, as if replying to the first question, he pointed into the living area.

“Ravaxis is there?”

“Booplax.”

“Thank you, Booplax.”

He spent no more time wondering why Booplax had been lingering outside rather than spending time in the living area as he usually did. Instead he entered the room, only now noticing the dim lighting.

“Ravaxis?” he called out, softly so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping child. “Where are you?”

“’m here.”

The sound was so soft Peter had to look around for a bit before finding the pilot lying on one of the couches, oddly enough. Ravaxis wasn’t one to just lounge about on a couch, particularly this early in the day. Peter would usually find him tinkering with something or the other. Repairing, creating, occasionally reading – but rarely just lying across a surface completely still. Like he was now.

His head was propped up on a pillow, likely one from his bedroom, and a damp cloth covered the top half of his face. Despite this, Peter could see the tension in his expression, lips tightly drawn into a frown.

“Are you okay?” Peter wondered.

“Headache,” was the short reply he got, though the way Ravaxis winced when he spoke was answer enough to his question. Migraine was perhaps a more accurate description, though, judging by the apparent severity of this affliction. Peter’s expression softened in sympathy. At least this explained the grumpiness Ravaxis had displayed that morning. And the music choice, though Peter would have thought silence would be better.

“Should I turn off the music?” he whispered, mindful of his volume now.

“Tried silence,” Ravaxis breathed, “made me go half-mad with boredom.”

“Ah.”

Peter looked down uncertainly at the bundle in his arms. He’d meant to seek the Captain’s advice on the matter, but it hardly seemed fair to burden him with anything else at the moment.

“You didn’t stay long,” Ravaxis murmured, breaking the silence before Peter could decide whether to speak up or not.

“No. Something came up.”

“Oh?”

“It’s… No, never mind. We can talk about it later. You should-”

The girl in his arms twitched, as if disturbed by something. Then sneezed. Twice. It had enough force to wake her up and Peter barely had time to take a breath before she began crying, startled by the rude awakening.

“W-what the-” Ravaxis’ hands flew up to his ears as he sat up, startled enough to move, despite the pain. The cloth fell limply into his lap and though his eyes were narrow with tension and pain, they widened when they fell on the girl. “Who- What the hell is this?”

“Sorry,” Peter murmured before turning his attention to the child, rocking her carefully. “Shh, it’s okay, nothing to be scared of, you just sneezed, that’s all.” A glance at Ravaxis told him that the additional sound wasn’t doing him any favours. His face was a notably paler shade of green as he clutched his ears desperately, knees drawing up to his chest.

Thankfully the child seemed to wake enough to realize there wasn’t anything to cry about. She stopped with a hitching breath, blinking tiredly up at Peter. Peter smiled carefully. “That’s it. You’re okay, I’ve got you.” he said, before turning back to his companion. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

Ravaxis simply groaned in reply, eyes squeezed shut. He sat there for a while, apparently getting his bearings back before carefully opening his eyes. Staring at the girl for a while, he then turned his expression back to Peter. There was a sharpness to his eyes. A tightness to his lips that had nothing to do with the migraine now.

“I found her in an alleyway,” Peter said quietly, sitting down in one of the armchairs. “She was crying then too, that’s how I heard her. Left all by herself in a pile of trash. Such a tiny thing. A year or so maybe... And thin. Too-”

“We can’t keep her.”

Peter blinked, lifting his gaze from where it had been focused on the child, again happily sticking her hand in her mouth and sucking on it. “What?”

“We can’t keep her,” Ravaxis repeated. “She’s a kid.”

“She was all alone,” Peter shook his head slowly, frowning in confusion at how matter-of-factly Ravaxis was speaking. “Left alone. To die, Ravaxis, she would have died!”

“Yeah, the world’s cruel,” Ravaxis said distractedly, Peter’s raised voice clearly bothering him, “Still can’t keep her, though.”

“You’re talking as if she’s just a- a pet or something. She’s a hu- well, not human, but she’s alive! A person!”

Ravaxis winced slightly at the raising volume, but his eyes had a steely glint to it. “And what do you expect us to do? Raise her? Get her a tiny little spacesuit and drag her along on adventures? Casually strap her to our back as we run from people that want to hurt us?”

Peter stilled. He honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he’d known was that he couldn’t leave her to die. Not when she was so very much alive. So trusting. So innocent. So unlike the people who’d tossed her out like she didn’t matter.

“I couldn’t leave her there,” he whispered.

Ravaxis sighed. “I know. But-”

“She can’t stay. I gathered.” Peter finished, tone more bitter than he’d intended. It made sense, of course it did. That didn’t mean it hurt any less. He held out a hand and the child grasped one of the fingers between her hands with curiosity, watching as the galaxies on his skin sparkled and changed in front of her eyes. How could anyone look at this child and not see the marvel of her existence?

He looked back up at Ravaxis, only to find that the pilot had leaned back against the pillow, one arm draped across his face. He looked miserable, perhaps part of the reason why he had been less than receptive to the girl’s presence aboard his ship.

Peter stood from the chair, dejected. “We’ll figure something out. Sorry for disturbing you.”

There was no response apart from a brief nod, and Peter left wordlessly, floating past Booplax who looked subdued by the whole situation. For now, the girl was probably hungry. He’d deal with that first, then worry about everything else later.

 

Half an hour later, he had discovered that the girl already had a few teeth and handled soft food easily. The main issue was getting her to slow down, and he eventually found himself feeding her small pieces of bread with jam so she wouldn’t stuff it all in her mouth and choke.

“Easy does it,” he murmured, smiling at the eager look on her face as she barely chewed the food before swallowing. As hungry as she obviously was, though, she had still yet to make a sound. Apart from the crying earlier, she was almost unnaturally silent. Only her eyes asked him for more food. She didn’t whine, and made no move to grab it once he took it away, even though it sat on a plate beside them. Simply seemed to take what she was given without complaint, and without hoping for more.

“Commander?” He looked up to see Gidget enter the kitchen area slowly. The robot seemed hesitant to approach, perhaps wary of how big and menacing he might seem to a child. As Peter suspected, though, she merely glanced at the robot before turning back to the food. As unfaced as the rest of her species by creatures that looked different. A strange feature of the planet’s population, considering that they didn’t seem to get many visitors, even from other islands.

“Hello, Gidget,” he replied calmly, giving the girl another piece of bread.

“Who is this?” Gidget seemed reassured that she wasn’t going to burst into fearful crying upon seeing him, and slowly sat down on a chair across from the table. Keeping his distance, but obviously curious. “I wasn’t aware we had visitors.”

“I found her, on that planet. Left alone to…” he cut off, shaking his head.

“You brought her with you?”

“I did,” Peter looked up at the robot, ready to defend his choice yet again, when he instead saw the robot gaze at the child, almost warmly. There was no judgement, and his defensive outburst died on his lips. Instead, he sighed. “I know we can’t… This isn’t a suitable home, for a child.”

“It would be unadvisable, yes,” Gidget said softly. “But according to my research on this planet, leaving her there would be even more so.”

“Yeah. God, Gidget, it was awful. The state of that place, those people…” He swallowed. The girl looked up at him from where she sat on his lap, as if sensing his distress. He smiled, trying not to let his expression show the depth of his anger and grief. “How could someone so precious exist down there? Amongst all that misery?”

Perhaps there was some hope left for that planet after all. For the life that existed there. If nothing else, the girl seemed to be proof that they were not born hateful and destructive. And if there was good in them when they were young, who was to say they couldn’t by some miracle retain that quality growing up?

“Hope,” he whispered, wiping a smudge of jam from her cheek with his thumb. “I think I’m going to call you Hope,”

Gidget, mercifully, said nothing. Didn’t say what Peter already knew; that it was foolish to name her. That giving her a name would only make it that much harder to let go. To say the goodbyes that were inevitable.

Once the girl was fed, she yawned tiredly, leaning against his chest. He’d initially planned on cleaning her up a bit but figured it could wait. She lay there, blinking drowsily for a while, before falling asleep. Lulled by the gentle music still drifting from the speakers of the ship and the hum of machinery. He should perhaps lay her on the bed in his room. Surely it would be more comfortable than his lap.

“Here, Commander,” he blinked, having not noticed Gidget leave or return. The robot had a blanket in his hand, extending it towards them with a smile. Peter grabbed it and wrapped it gently around her back, tucking her in. She breathed a please sigh, snuggling into the fabric and even closer to him. A tiny hand reached for his hand and latched on to his thumb. He gave Gidget a thankful nod, settling down to let the girl rest.

“I know Ravaxis says she can’t stay,” he said after a few beats. Gidget, who had again sat down, looked at him quizzically. “And I understand, I do. I can’t help it, though, I want to help her. She had no one, and well, no one deserves that.”

“Rav understands that,” Gidget spoke quietly. “Perhaps better than anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

Gidget looked a little hesitant. “Has he said anything at all about his mood these past few days?”

“No?” All he’d done was reassure Peter that he was not the cause of it.

Gidget looked strangely resigned. “I thought as much.”

“You sound like it’s a common occurrence,” Peter remarked, starting to grow worried now.

“It is. Or, a yearly occurrence, I should say. Today marks the-”

“Gidget, that’s enough.”

They turned in unison to view the Captain, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He still looked pale. Seemingly uncaring of the way they both stared at him, Gidget with guilt and Peter with concern, he walked over to the fridge. There, he pulled out another cloth and stuffed the one he had in his hand inside. Then he turned and trudged back out of the room, though not before pausing in the doorway.

“Come on. The seating in the living room’s a lot more comfortable, don’t ya reckon?”

Then he left, as quietly as he’d arrived. Peter and Gidget glanced at each other before slowly standing to follow him, seeing the invitation for what it was.

Ravaxis had laid back down on the couch, the cold cloth yet again covering his eyes. Peter gingerly sat down in one of the armchairs, careful not to disturb the child. Gidget looked torn between sitting down and leaving, until Ravaxis lifted the cloth and tossed him a half-hearted glare.

“Sit down, Gidget. I can hear your worrying from here, so quit it. I’m not mad at ya.”

The robot nodded slowly, sitting down in the chair closest to his Captain. Booplax seemed to take this cue to enter as well, finally approaching carefully and finding a spot next to the couch, where he leaned his head back against Ravaxis’ legs.

“I owe you an apology,” the pilot started. “I came across as pretty heartless back there, huh.”

“No,” Peter shook his head, “you were telling the truth. I just wasn’t ready to hear it, I think.”

“Still, I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I don’t blame you for taking the kid, I mean, she’s adorable. And defenceless.”

Ravaxis shifted slightly, pulling the cloth up to rest on his forehead so he could look at him properly. He still looked strained, the headache clearly still in place and affecting him more than he let on. There was a different kind of pain lurking in his tired eyes, however. One that had nothing to do with the physical ailment.

“What Gidget was trying to tell you…” He paused briefly, weighing his words before continuing. “I mentioned I’m half-human, right? Well, that was my ma’s side of the family. I don’t remember much about what she was doing in space or how she’d gotten there. But she got along like she’d been born there.”

Peter listened intently, aware now, more than ever, that he was privileged to have earned Ravaxis’ trust. He didn’t share much about himself, had always joked away any questions Peter had thought to ask. Expertly outmanoeuvred every subject that hit too close to home. Still, Peter couldn’t help but wonder if it was fair to have him talk about this now. It felt a little like he was taking advantage of his friend’s moment of weakness.

“Are you sure you want to tell me? I won’t be upset if you’re not ready,” he interjected. Ravaxis merely glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ‘ready’,” he snorted. “But yeah. I want to tell you. You deserve to know.”

“That shouldn’t be the reason you-”

“Just shut up and let me get this off my chest, will ya?” A smile twitched at Ravaxis’ lips and Peter did as he was told and shut up. Ravaxis continued, as if he hadn’t been disrupted.

“Anyway, ma wasn’t a particularly warm woman, but she wasn’t bad. My father left her before I was born. Having a human lover was bad enough, but a half-breed brat? He didn’t want nothing to do with that, apparently.” Peter noted that Ravaxis’ western accent was thicker, more pronounced, the more he spoke. “So there she was. Raising a kid on her own, in a hostile town on a strange planet, among people who avoided her like the plague.”

Peter nodded, slight anger flaring up at the thought that his father had simply left them to fend for themselves. He quelled it immediately with a deep breath. After all, he didn’t know the circumstances, and it wasn’t his place to judge. It was entirely possible Ravaxis’ mother had tainted the events with her own subjective experience when relaying them to her kid. Who wouldn’t.

“You know, I can’t remember seeing her smile,” Ravaxis said quietly. “Not once. I swear, I haven’t met a more stone-faced person since, and I’ve met a lot of different people. I knew she cared, though, in her own way. She worked hard to make sure we had what we needed. Tried to grow something of a garden outside our cottage. Said it reminded her of home.”

“Must have brought her some comfort,” Peter nodded.

“Yeah.” Ravaxis smiled wistfully. “It did. Not that she was ever satisfied with it. Spent a lot more time in that garden than she did with me, that’s for sure. Could never get it just right. Different soil and atmosphere and all. Of course, it didn’t help that the neighbours kept coming over at night and trampling all she’d managed to grow.”

“What? Why would they do such a thing?” Peter asked.

Ravaxis shrugged. “She was different. And proud of it. Didn’t want to adjust too much, but didn’t plan on leaving either. So, they kept ruining her work, and she kept working. Eventually they must have figured they weren’t going to drive her away just by stepping on some vegetables. Woke up one night to ma dragging me out of bed. They’d set fire to the cottage. It burnt to the ground, and they all just stood there, watching.”

Peter felt sick. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. You know what she did, though?” Ravaxis grinned then, eyes twinkling. “She spit on the flames. Said she’d been meaning to do that herself, that it was getting to small anyway. Walked in, like the walls weren’t flaming around her, and grabbed a suitcase. Then we left. She never looked back.”

Peter stared at him. For a second he wondered if he was exaggerating, but the look of pride in Ravaxis’ eyes was proof as much as anything, that the events had indeed transpired that way. Which made his mother a formidable woman indeed. Peter was starting to see where Ravaxis might have gotten his reckless streak.

The grin soon died down, though. “We travelled for a while. Then she got sick. We’d almost reached a town when she just couldn’t walk anymore. I said I’d run there. Fetch a doctor or something, but she wouldn’t have it. No one would help anyway, she said. She’d rather spend her last hours with her son. But I…” Ravaxis’ voice broke. “I was desperate to help. Figured that if I could just find someone, they would be able to help her. So, I ran. I left her behind. And when I got back, she was already dead.”

Silence fell upon the living room, heavy and thick like the emotions in Ravaxis’ expression.

“How… how old were you?” Peter asked softly.

“I’d just turned four.”

Peter shut his eyes. “God, Rav…”

“Yeah.” Ravaxis breathed the word like it physically hurt. “I know it was a long time ago. But I can’t help it. Today’s the anniversary of her death. And every year, when this fucking day comes, I can’t help but start thinking, you know? I shouldn’t have left her. I should have stayed. Should have held her hand as she breathed her last. Should have trusted her then, like I’d trusted her my whole life.”

“You did what you could to help her, though. You did your best. I’m sure she knew that.”

Ravaxis gave a watery smile, sniffing and running a hand swiftly over his face. “She wasn’t the most comforting of women. Tough lovin’, I suppose. But I get it now. She knew the world wasn’t always kind, or fair, and did what she could to prepare me for that. I guess that’s the only reason I survived on my own.”

“Surely you weren’t all alone?” Peter asked, heart aching at the thought of little Ravaxis, wide-eyed and frightened with no family left to care for him.

Ravaxis shook his head, wincing when it aggravated his headache. “Met some people here and there. Some took care of me for a while. Others not so much. I never stayed in one place long, though, for one reason or another. The one person I knew I could rely on was myself. Though I couldn’t have done it without good people looking out for me when I needed it the most.”

Peter was silent, feeling like he had a clearer picture of how Ravaxis had come to be the person he was. A self-contradictory person, who had somehow managed to remain positive and kind, despite the horrors he’d faced.

“Booplax!” The alien was the first to break the silence with a quiet cry, more a whine than anything. Tears rolled the creature’s cheeks as he turned around to hug Ravaxis’ legs. Gidget looked smaller than ever, though he had obviously known some of this already. Slowly, the robot reached out and put a hand on Ravaxis’ head, patting the curls carefully.

For once, Ravaxis didn’t complain about his companions’ sentimentality. Seemed instead to relish in the contact and comfort, lips set in a grim line and eyes shining. Peter wanted to hug him. To hold him and protect him, like he was currently holding the girl in his arms. It would have to wait.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured instead. It was much too little, much too late, but Ravaxis looked at him and nodded, appreciating the gesture for what it was.

Leaning back in the chair, Peter listened to the soft music playing over the speakers for a while. Humming along occasionally when he recognized the tune. Ravaxis had pulled the cloth over his eyes again, though he didn’t look as tense as before. It seemed talking about the issue had given him some measure of peace, for which Peter was glad.

He almost thought his friend had fallen asleep like that, when he quietly spoke up with a question of his own. “Did you have kids? Before?”

Peter considered it. “No. Always figured we’d have time for that later. After space. After achieving my dreams.” That had ended up going all sorts of wrong, though. His chest ached as he thought about his girl, back home. The family they could have had, if he hadn’t been so ambitious. So obsessed with exploring space that it never occurred to him that there might never be a ‘later’.

“’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Peter sighed. “I made my choice. It just, went wrong.”

Ravaxis said nothing to that and Peter realized it might have sounded somewhat ungrateful. Unfair to the Captain who’d done his best to make the transition to his new existence easier. It wasn’t like the time spent here had been bad and Peter was coming to terms with it, for the most part. “What about you?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You ever thought about having kids?” It suddenly occurred to him that this was something they had never talked about before.

The pilot didn’t respond to this at first, worrying his lip between his teeth as he considered the question. Finally, he gave a small shrug. “Maybe,” he murmured. “Some day. I don’t know.”

Considering what he’d learnt about Ravaxis’ own childhood, Peter wasn’t really surprised that it was a difficult subject for him to decide on. He let it drop, glancing instead down at the child in his arms when she wriggled slightly in her sleep and let out a quiet snore.

“I uh… I named her Hope,” he admitted. “I know it’s stupid, that we’ll have to find a home for her somewhere, but-”

“Hope,” Ravaxis cut his dejected rant off quietly. “It’s a good name. We’ll find someplace that knows to appreciate her. Until then, she’s got us. And she’s got a home here, however temporary.”

“Thank you,” Peter said, gratitude washing over him. “I know I shouldn’t get attached, but… I just can’t help it.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Peter,” Ravaxis said, with a small but candid smile. “Even just a brief moment with someone who cares can go a long way.”

Peter nodded, holding the child slightly closer. She sighed, content with being held securely. He wondered if Ravaxis had found someone, back when his mother passed away. If someone had held him as he slept, exhausted from life even at a tender age.

Peter closed his eyes and listened to the music. To the soft breathing of Hope. And of Ravaxis as he eventually succumbed to sleep as well. To the strange purr rumbling in Booplax’ chest as he rested, and the distinct hum of Gidget’s machinery.

The S.S. Alexander lazily drifted through space. Vast emptiness that really wasn’t that empty after all. And to Peter, it had never felt more like home, however fleeting this moment might be.

Come what may, they would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback and support! I truly appreciate it!


End file.
